


Shiver//Shake

by Cheshyr



Series: Sibilance [1]
Category: Mötley Crüe, The Dirt (2019), The Dirt: Confessions of the World's Most Notorious Rock Band Book - Mötley Crüe & Neil Strauss
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sharing a bed for warmth, Some Angst with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-17 03:23:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21047477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheshyr/pseuds/Cheshyr
Summary: “I’d give you my blanket, but I only have one…” Tommy’s face scrunched in thought, before lighting up, “Hey! We should just shack up for the night!” Nikki both heard and felt a record scratch in his brain. “…Pardon?”(Nikki is struggling to sleep in the winter weather. Tommy tries to help.)





	Shiver//Shake

**Author's Note:**

> My attempt at a short and fluffy fic turned into 6000 words of hurt/comfort which honestly is very on brand for me.

Nothing made Nikki feel weaker than winter in California.

Like, Jesus Christ, he had lived in all sorts of places colder than California. Hell, he had spent time sleeping _outside_ when he first got to LA, yet here he was, _inside_ his apartment on the Sunset Strip freezing his ass off. 

Fucking pathetic.

Nikki paced back and forth in the dark living room, arms wrapped around himself and smoking a cigarette in the hopes of maybe keeping his lungs warm at least. That’s how that worked, right? Whatever. He vaguely felt a little ridiculous, fully dressed including his leather jacket inside at something like two in the morning and still shivering. 

It’s not like it was entirely his fault- it was early December, and their apartment had no heating and poor insulation, the walls doing next to nothing to keep the chill out. Not to mention the fact that all available money went to rent or booze, leaving him with a single ratty, piece of shit blanket on his piece of shit mattress.

Just as he was debating the merits of lighting his jacket on fire in a desperate bid for warmth, the lights flicked on, making the bassist jump. Spinning around, he was brought face to face with a drowsy, confused looking Tommy. 

The drummer looked a bit like the little kid they always teased him for being. His sweatpants were too short, cutting off at his calf, and a beat up long sleeve shirt barely reached his wrists, and when he reached up to rub at his eyes, the hem lifted to reveal a patch of his slender stomach. It was a little ridiculous- Nikki didn’t know anyone else who could look so absurd in theory and so good in reality. It almost made him angry.

“Dude? What are you doing?” Tommy looked Nikki up and down, “Are you… going somewhere?”

“Uh, no, I just…” He waved his hand vaguely, as if hoping a reasonable excuse would just appear before him. But when all he got was an increasingly confused expression from the drummer, Nikki sighed heavily, too tired to try to seem hardcore or whatever, “I’m fucking _cold_, T-Bone.”

There was a slight pause, the only evidence that Tommy was surprised by the answer, before the drummer snorted, “That makes sense actually. You’re so fucking skinny, dude.”

“Exc_use_ me?” Nikki gave a look of exaggerated offense, “You’re skinny, too!”

“Yeah, but I’m _supposed_ to be skinny,” he argued.

“How do you know I’m not supposed to be skinny?”

Tommy shrugged, “I can just tell.”

“Fuck off,” Nikki muttered, rolling his eyes. Turning around and dropping onto the couch, he took another long drag in an attempt to suppress a shiver. He had expected Tommy to just return to bed, so he was surprised when Tommy sat down next to him. 

“Is that why you’ve been so tired lately? You haven’t been sleeping cause of the cold?”

The drummer’s question only added to Nikki’s surprise. He had thought he’d done a good job of covering up his exhaustion. Not that he expected anyone to notice. 

Tommy frowned when Nikki only shrugged, “That sucks, dude.”

“Whatever. I’ll be fine,” Nikki tried to wave him off, but Tommy wasn’t having it.

“Dude, you can’t just not sleep all winter. And besides, if you’re cold, you’re cold! What if you get sick or something? You can’t play bass with pneumonia!”

“Is that a challenge?”

Shoving his shoulder playfully, Tommy shook his head, “No! Come on man, I’m sure there’s a solution here.”

“I already raided Vince’s room and he’s got jack shit,” Nikki grumbled. It wasn’t exactly surprising. When Vince had ditched them to stay with his current girlfriend for the week, Nikki had searched his room almost immediately. But all the singer had was a single thin sheet on his bed- which made sense given that the man was a fucking furnace. Anytime he slung an arm around Nikki it was like hugging an oven. 

“Figures,” Tommy sighed, “I’d give you my blanket, but I only have one…” Tommy’s face scrunched in thought, before lighting up, “Hey! We should just shack up for the night!”

Nikki both heard _and_ felt a record scratch in his brain. 

“…Pardon?”

“Yeah, it’ll be perfect!” Tommy grinned, “We could combine our blankets AND our body heat! 

There were a million reasons Nikki _did not_ want to do that, but he didn’t have the words for any of them. Well, okay, maybe he would if he actually tried. But for the past several weeks he had been very consciously not naming the feelings that caught in his stomach when Tommy was around and filled his chest when the younger boy gave him his attention. As far as he was concerned, he was just allergic to the damn kid.

But he could only imagine how suspicious any of that would sound if he said it out loud. After all, they were the terror twins- they had next to no boundaries with each other, and Tommy was right, it did make sense to just share a bed for a bit to get warm. Nothing weird there. It was only weird if Nikki _made_ it weird, and he decided right then and there that if he was going to fuck up this relationship like he did everything else in his life, it was not going to be over something as dumb as sleeping in the same bed together.

So Nikki forced a grin, “I think you mean _your_ body heat,” he reached out to press his icy fingers against the drummer’s neck.

Tommy shrieked, laughing as he pulled away, “Fuck, dude! What do you have frostbite already?” Standing, he motioned Nikki to follow him, “The situation is more dire than I thought, let’s go before you lose your goddamn fingers.”

Chuckling, the bassist followed after him, stopping by his room to grab the blanket off his bed. When he entered Tommy’s room, he was rifling through his dresser, “I think…. Got it!” He tossed a pair of grey sweatpants at him, “Those are a little short on me, so they should fit you fine.”

“How do you know I don’t have my own sweatpants?”

“Nikki, I love you, but you have like three outfits. I doubt you have pajamas hiding somewhere.”

Huffing at the accuracy of that statement, he switched out his jeans for the sweats as fast as he could. Part of it was because of how much it sucked to expose his skin to the cold air, but also partially because of Tommy. Not that they hadn’t changed in front of each other before, usually drunkenly after a party or something, but… 

Sometimes Nikki felt like his confidence rose and fell with the sun. It was harder to act nonchalant in the dark. And right now Nikki was too sober, and too tired, and if he took too long he felt like his ribs might collapse. He wasn’t sure why. He refused to think about why.

Tommy spread Nikki’s blanket over his own, sliding under the covers and patting the space beside him, “Ditch the jacket and hop on in, dude!”

Sighing, he shed the leather jacket, tossing it aside and flipping the lights off before swiftly crawling onto the mattress, pulling the blankets up to his chin almost immediately. Tommy giggled, shaking his head, “Oh my God, you’re like a kitten.”

“I will fucking key your drum set,” Nikki glared.

Gasping dramatically, Tommy clutched his chest, “Hit me where it hurts, why don’tcha!”

Nikki only grumbled, and the drummer chuckled again, settling himself under the covers. Yawning widely, he rolled onto his side and let out a cheery “Night, dude!”. Minutes later, he was snoring lightly.

Staring at the back of Tommy’s head, Nikki can’t help but be a little jealous- he can’t remember a time when he had slept so easily. Taking a deep breath, Nikki rolled over and tried his best to relax, to clear his head, to _sleep_. 

For a little while, it seems like it might actually work. The extra blanket is a warm comfort, and Tommy’s quiet, even breathing is a soothing backdrop to the night. He feels himself start to drift off, the edges of consciousness starting to fade away.

Suddenly, he feels a sharp jolt of pain in his leg, and before he can even begin to process it, he is shoved forward, falling roughly onto the floor and hitting the ground with a hard ‘thud’. The impact jerks him awake before his brain can catch up, and for a moment he feels himself gasping, body tensing, ready to defend himself against… something.

But then awareness cuts through the haze, and he remembers everything at once (_-he left, he called his father, he changed his name, London, Tommy, Motley Crue, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy-_) and the brief panic turns into confusion. He glances around, taking in the room that he realizes is not his room and the floor that he realizes he is laying on and-

Tommy snorts and shifts wildly on the bed above him.

Ah.

That explains it, Nikki thinks, sitting up to get a better view of the bed. Looking over, he sees Tommy sprawled out, his limbs spread like a starfish where Nikki had been previously, his indent still a shadow beneath the drummer’s arm. 

And for a moment, Nikki feels a fire in his chest, an instinctual rage because he’s never handled being kicked out of anywhere very well. His hands clenched into fists against the dirty carpet and he debates the merits of dragging Tommy out of bed to crash to the floor like he had.

But the rage leaves him in an exhale. His hands release, and he finds himself laying back down onto the floor, staring at the ceiling with a sigh. What good would it do to make Tommy join him in his misery? The kid had only been trying to help, after all.

He’s still cold. Colder, in fact, for the hard ground and the blanket left behind on the bed above him. But he finds himself closing his eyes, rolling over and sticking his hands under his arms to try to warm his fingers, and focuses on the deep, even breaths of his best friend. Something about Tommy’s peace bleeds into him, and even though he doesn’t fall asleep, Nikki still finds it… restful. 

After about half an hour, Nikki wandered into his room to grab his notebook and a pen before returning to the drummer’s room. He glanced at the bed for about three seconds before laying back down on the ground. Fuck it, he once slept behind a dumpster, he could handle some charred carpeting. _Suck it up, Sixx_.

He spent the next couple hours scribbling away in the dark, squinting at the pages to edit older songs, or jot down potential new ones. Sometimes he would just put down a line he liked in case he found a place for it later. Eventually he was interrupted by the sound of Tommy groaning sleepily.

Above him, Tommy pushed himself up onto his elbows, rubbing at his eyes. Looking around the still dark room, it took a moment for his brain to catch up that there was someone missing on the mattress. His brow furrowed as he glanced left and right.

“…Nikki?”

There was a grunt of acknowledgement from below him, and Tommy frowned in confusion as he leaned over to look over the side of the bed. When he did, he was brought face to face with Nikki fucking Sixx laying on his back on the floor with his notebook on his chest, his hair a dark, wild halo around his head.

Tommy blinked slowly, “What are you doing down there, dude?”

The bassist glared, “Apparently your mattress isn’t big enough for you, me, _and_ your limbs,” he huffed.

Gasping, Tommy looked down at his own arms with a look of utter betrayal, “I pushed you off?!”

“Kicked me, actually. Did you used to play soccer or something because Jesus-”

Looking at Tommy’s wide eyes you’d think Nikki had told him he kicked a puppy, not some hot mess bass player. He had expected the drummer to just laugh it off, not radiate guilt and regret. What the fuck.

“Dude, why didn’t you wake me up?" 

Why indeed, Nikki wondered. "I tried, man,” he lied through his teeth, “but you sleep like the dead. I actually checked your pulse at one point.”

It was a believable lie, at least. Tommy could sleep through the weirdest shit. But Nikki couldn’t say for sure _why_ he lied. He thinks it probably has something to do with those nameless feelings he’s ignoring, but he’d have to stop ignoring them to be sure, and like Hell is that happening right now.

“Fuck,” Tommy groaned, running a hand over his face, “I’m sorry, dude.”

Nikki shrugged, “Whatever, man. It’s fine. Oh, I’ve got some cool ideas for a new song to work on though-”

“Ah, ah, ah!” Tommy’s hand shot out, pushing down the notebook Nikki had just raised to emphasize his point, “Dude, I love your shit, you know I do, but it’s like, five in the morning.”

“…Did you wanna grab breakfast or something?”

“No!” sighing in something between exasperation and fondness, Tommy reached down to tug at Nikki’s arm, “I want you to get back up here and at least _try_ to get a couple hours of sleep.”

“Fine, fine!” Nikki put his notebook on Tommy’s nightstand before allowing himself to be pulled back under the blankets. He had to admit, the warmth was blissful, the space having been kept warm by Tommy’s body. That thought brought him a little extra warmth, and he found himself hurrying to turn and face away from the drummer. After one last apology from Tommy, they said their good nights again, and before long, both drifted off to sleep.

An hour later, Nikki landed on the floor face-first.

Above him, Tommy’s arm flopped over the side of the bed as the drummer snorted lightly. Nikki didn’t even bother moving. He just stayed on the floor with his face pressed into the filthy carpet and sighed.

~

On the one hand, the three Jolt sodas mixed with vodka Nikki had downed before the Crue showed up had kept him _very_ lively. He was practically jumping off the walls, talking a mile a minute, and gesturing wildly to communicate every idea. Awake as awake could get.

On the other hand, he’s pretty sure he’s gonna hurl.

“You want Tommy to hold your hair back for you?” Vince teased. Mick and Vince were having a few after-practice drinks before they inevitably split off, which meant they got to witness when Nikki stood up and abruptly had to brace himself against the wall, one hand clutched over his mouth.

Tommy _actually_ moved toward him, concern in his eyes and hands ready to reach for the bassist’s hair, which was… sweet? No, ridiculous, that’s what Nikki meant. Utterly ridiculous.

He batted the drummer’s hands away half-heartedly, “Oh fuck off, I’m fine.” Straightening up, he went to the kitchen to get a glass of water, “I’m pretty sure my organs are just being eaten through, no big deal,” he said sarcastically before downing the water in several quick gulps.

“All the fucking drugs you do and you’re going to die from a fucking soda?” Mick raised an eyebrow.

Nikki flipped him off as he drank more water. 

The group hung out a while longer before Mick and Vince took their leave; Vince itching to get some loving from his girlfriend and Mick itching for some peace and quiet. Nikki blinked in surprise when Tommy threw his jacket on as well.

“I’m just running to the corner store, you want anything?” he explained.

“Summer weather and some chloroform,” Nikki deadpanned.

Tommy barked out a laugh, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Grunting in response, Nikki stretched out on the couch, shivering slightly. Night had fallen, and his bandmates leaving the apartment had let in gusts of the cold winter air, lowering the temperature of the apartment even faster. Nikki swore that once Motley Crue made it big, and they would, he was going to have the most high tech heater available and five blankets. And a heated blanket in the winter. Yup, that was the plan.

Nikki almost growled when the door opened again, letting in even more cold air. Tommy grinned sheepishly in understanding, “Sorry, sorry. But hey! I got you something for your stomach!”

That had Nikki looking over in confusion. He had assumed Tommy was going to grab cigarettes or something. But instead, he was holding out a package of saltine crackers.

There was a fluttering in his stomach that had nothing to do with the energy drinks. He swallowed thickly, his smile shaky even as he tried to keep his words steady, “You are a _lifesaver_, T-Bone.”

Tommy’s grin was almost blinding as Nikki tore into the package, “Anytime, dude! I figure that shit only fucked you up cause you drank ‘em on an empty stomach.” 

“Fuck that, eating is supposed to be optional if you drink enough.”

“That’s… not even remotely true.”

“Food can also be substituted with drugs.”

“_Also_ no,” Tommy laughed, “Stop it, Sixx, I hate being the voice of reason! It feels so unnatural!”

“This is why Mick is the pillar of our group,” Nikki grinned, already feeling better now that the water and saltines were settling his stomach.

“So true,” shaking his head fondly, Tommy stretched his arms over his head, “You feeling better?”

“Yeah, thanks again man.”

“No worries. You ready to crash then?”

Nikki turned to him in surprise, raising an eyebrow questioningly, “Uh, I kinda figured after last night-”

“No, no, no!” Tommy waved his arms frantically, “I know, last night didn’t go well, but I have a _plan_ this time!”

“This whole thing was your plan.”

“I have _fine tuned_ the plan!”

Laughing, Nikki shook his head, “Alright, let’s try this again I guess.” 

Tommy beamed, and led the way back into his room. They both kicked off their shoes, and Nikki found himself staring at a corner while they changed. Not for any reason though. Of course not. Just because.

“Okay, so this time, you take the side against the wall,” Tommy instructed. Doing as he was told, Nikki slid under the covers until he was pressed up to the wall as Tommy got in beside him. “And I’ll stay waaaaaay over here,” the stretch of the word was comical when faced with the narrow space the twin bed provided, but Nikki got the message, “This way I can’t kick you off! And, you know, hopefully I won’t hit you or anything at all,” he added sheepishly.

Grinning, Nikki nodded, “Cool, works for me.” They both settled down, Nikki feeling a little more at ease with the space between them, each of them facing away from each other. And he was so tired, worn out from the lack of sleep and crashing now that the energy drinks had worn off, that he actually felt himself drift off fairly quickly. Tommy still fell asleep first, but after a few soft snores from the drummer and a few long blinks from the bassist, Nikki was out like a light.

For a few hours, at least.

When Nikki woke up, his teeth were chattering. It took him a moment to gather his bearings and take in his surroundings, and once he did, he was filled with frustration. How was he _still_ cold? Turning around on the mattress, the answer became immediately apparent.

Beside him, Tommy was covered up in both their blankets- the sheets wrapped around him like a burrito. Nikki sat up, tugging on one end to try to free some of the warmth for himself, but they wouldn’t budge. Tommy grumbled quietly in his sleep, turning over to wrap himself up even tighter. 

Nikki let out a long groan of annoyance. Part of him wanted to shake Tommy awake and demand the blankets be shared equally. Or Hell, even just rip his own blanket back and retreat back to his own room. But when he looked down at Tommy’s peaceful face, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. When was the last time Nikki slept that soundly, even when he was warm? It didn’t feel fair to deprive Tommy of his rest when Nikki was a lost cause to begin with. 

Sighing, the bassist carefully crawled over the drummer before stealthily making his way into the living room. On his way, he stepped into the kitchen to grab a half empty bottle of whiskey. Alcohol warms you up, right? If nothing else, he figured maybe he could pass out and sleep through the chill. 

~

Looking out the dirty living room window, Nikki could just see the edges of the sky start to lighten. Sighing in frustration, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He was curled up in the corner of the couch, strumming mindlessly at his bass with the empty whiskey bottle on the floor next to him. He felt barely buzzed, and still chilly but distracted enough to not be thinking about it at least. At least once the sun rose it would get a little warmer. He was debating the merits of going to the diner down the street to try to sweet talk Dottie into some free coffee when Tommy woke up.

“FUCK!”

_Crash!_

Nikki jumped at the noise, the sounds slightly muffled by distance but still very clearly Tommy. There was a _thump_, followed by the slam of a door opening, and a rapid _thud thud THUD_ of approaching footsteps. 

On cue, Tommy slid into the living room, hair even more disheveled than usual, eyes wide and Nikki swore he looked near tears- like someone just told him his goldfish died or something. When he spoke, Tommy’s voice held the same air of tragedy.

“Dude, I am _so sorry!_”

There was a beat of silence. And then, he couldn’t have held it back if he wanted to. Nikki burst out laughing.

His arms clutched his bass to his stomach, doubling over as he laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of the whole situation- at the absurdity of Tommy being so distressed over Nikki’s discomfort.

Tommy visibly huffed at Nikki’s laughter, so he did his best to pull himself together, gasping for breath as he waved his hand dismissively. “Dude- dude, it’s fine, really. It’s no big deal.”

“It _is_ a big deal!” Tommy argued, “I was supposed to keep you warm, and I did the exact opposite! _Again!_” 

The drummer seemed so genuinely distressed that Nikki felt his laughter die out. For whatever reason, this mattered to Tommy. Which meant it mattered to Nikki. “Hey, dude, no,” he tried his best to sound soothing, “it’s fine, really. I don’t mind-”

“Well _I_ do,” he insisted, “We are going to figure this out, I promise!”

“I- I mean…” Nikki was unprepared for the determination in Tommy’s voice, “I could just go back to my room.” 

And he was even _more_ unprepared for the way Tommy’s face fell at his words, “Oh. Well, yeah, I mean, you could do that.” He scuffed his foot against the carpet dejectedly, “I mean, I guess my plan hasn’t exactly been working out…”

_God fucking dammit fucking feelings stupid boys stupid FEELINGS-_

“Oh, so now you’re a quitter?” Nikki raised an eyebrow.

Tommy’s head snapped up, “Wha-” he waved his arms in dismay, “you’re the one who suggested it!”

“That doesn’t sound like me.”

“You literally suggested giving up like five seconds ago!” Tommy tried to look annoyed, but he couldn’t help but laugh a little through his words.

“Hmmm, nope. Don’t recall. I mean, if _you_ want to give up, that’s fine, but don’t try to blame it on innocent little me.”

“You’ve never been innocent in your life.”

“Damn right I haven’t, and you should show some respect.”

At that point the drummer couldn’t hold back his giggles, “Alright, alright. No quitting. We’re gonna get you warm if it kills us!”

“I can already see the headlines.”

~

The next night, after a day of band practice and crashing shows at the Whiskey (“Gotta keep an eye on the competition, T-Bone!”), the terror twins once again stumbled into Tommy’s room.

“Okay, okay, hear me out, cause I think I have the perfect plan this time!” Tommy’s face was a kaleidoscope of mischief and anxiety and hopefulness that Nikki had no idea how to deal with. So, raising an eyebrow, he simply motioned to the drummer to go on.

Honestly, when Nikki looks back on this moment later, he realizes he shouldn’t have been so surprised. After all, this was _Tommy_ he was dealing with. But at the time, when the drummer’s face split into a wide grin and he grabbed Nikki’s hand to pull him onto the bed, his brain short-circuited a little. Then it short-circuited a _lot_ when Tommy wrapped his arms around him and swiftly twisted them around on the mattress until they were both wrapped snug in the blankets, much as Tommy had been the night before. 

Only this time, Nikki was pressed up against him, his face against his chest, and his arms stiff and awkward at his sides, and his heart about to beat out of his chest.

“….What… the Hell?” Nikki is proud of himself for even getting those three words out.

Tommy laughs, and there’s a tinge of nervousness to it, and then he’s hugging Nikki a little tighter and yup, Nikki is pretty sure this is how he’s going to die because the beats his heart is skipping combined with the way his stomach is doing flips can_not_ be healthy. 

“It’s perfect, dude!” Tommy exclaims, his breath warm against the top of Nikki’s head and Nikki was definitely dying, “This way I can’t kick you or steal the blankets! Plus, it’s the best for keeping us extra warm!”

Nikki certainly felt like his face was on fire, so point made. It takes maybe a moment too long for it to come across as completely natural, but Nikki takes a breath and violently pushes all the confusing, completely unhelpful feelings he’s having deep down and tries his best to respond how he thinks he’s supposed to.

So he huffs out a laugh and tries to release some of the tension in his body- tries to act like this is just another crazy stunt of the terror twins, “You’re a genius, T-Bone. A fucking weirdo, absolutely, but also a genius.” His voice maybe shakes a little, but they both laugh. They spend a few minutes shifting to get comfortable, Tommy ending up with his chin resting on the top of Nikki’s head, and the bassist eventually hesitantly bringing his arms up to return the hug Tommy had him wrapped in. The drummer sounds almost shy when he finally mumbles a goodnight, but Nikki figures it’s probably his fault for being so fucking awkward.

As Tommy settles in and closes his eyes, Nikki can’t help but curse at himself. What the fuck was wrong with him? It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to Tommy being physically affectionate. The two of them hugged all the time, threw their arms around each other, had even planted drunken kisses on each others’ cheeks a couple times. So why was it taking so much effort not to tremble in Tommy’s arms now?

He takes a deep breath through his nose and closes his eyes. He thinks maybe it’s the lack of motion. The terror twins were a tornado, always running and rushing and throwing themselves into everything they did. When they hugged it was a tackle, a leap, a falling together. Their touches were always accompanied by staggering and waving their arms and moving, moving, moving.

Nikki doesn’t know how to handle being held _still_. 

Like this he can feel Tommy’s heartbeat, causing a spike of anxiety at the prospect of Tommy feeling the frantic beating of his own. He can feel the gentle rise and fall of the drummers chest, and smell the remnants of whiskey and cherry soda on his breath, and the tips of his fingers can just touch the ends of tangled curls. It’s overwhelming, and those unnamed feelings are crashing over him like a tidal wave, and keeping them unnamed does nothing to quell what they _are_ which is _want_. Nikki wants, wants, _wants_ this. He wants to lay in Tommy’s arms forever, wants to run his fingers through his hair and catch on every knot, wants to brush his lips across his skin, wants to taste his breath and feel safe like this forever. 

Nikki has never felt so much want towards a person, and this is his best friend, and it is a pipe dream, it’s hopeless, because _nobody_ wants Nikki, he’s lucky enough to have found people who seem to sort of like him, maybe, or tolerate him, maybe, or something, maybe, maybe, but nobody _wants_ Nikki, and he hates this because it’s too much and he is trapped here, and he wants, and he’s unwanted, and he _can’t run away_.

And that’s about when the shaking starts.

It starts in his hands, and he tried to gently pull his arms away from Tommy, curling them into his own chest, fists clenched in an attempt to still them. But then he feels his shoulders hitching, and tremors run down his back, and his knees knock together, and his breaths shake with every inhale and exhale. It feels like an earthquake in his bones, and there is no shelter for him.

“…Nikki?”

A choked noise escapes as the breath catches in Nikki’s lungs because _fuck_ he thought Tommy was asleep, why wasn’t he asleep?

“S-s-s-sorry,” His teeth are fucking chattering and Tommy’s arms tighten around him but it only makes the shaking worse, “Did I- did I wake you up?” he speaks breathlessly.

The drummer ignores the question, shifting slightly to try to look down at Nikki, but his face was hidden under his wild hair, “Are you okay? Are… are you still cold?” It’s so blatant in his voice that Tommy _knows_ Nikki isn’t cold.

Shaking his head vigorously, Nikki abruptly starts pushing away from him, “I-… I need to…. I can’t-”

“Woah, hey, calm down, you’re oka-”

In his desperation to get away, Nikki can’t focus long enough to try to escape the nest of blankets they’re in. Pushing and pulling away, all he manages to do is tangle the two of them up even more, which is a problem for a lot of reasons, but mostly because when Nikki falls over the edge of the bed, Tommy is dragged right over with him.

“Oof!” 

“Ack!”

Both of them yelp in pain and surprise when the drummer lands on top of him. Tommy recovers first, quickly disentangling himself from the blankets and Nikki. He pushed himself up, bracing his hands on either side of Nikki’s head and straddling his hips. His long curls fell like a curtain around his face and his eyes were wide with concern.

Nikki was still breathing in harsh gasps, the tremors still racing up and down his body. He looked into Tommy’s eyes for about half a second before clenching his eyes shut, turning his head to the side as if that would help him hide from the situation.

A tentative hand brushed the hair away from his face, stroking down the back of his head gently, “Hey, just breathe, dude. You’re cool, you’re fine, just breathe, yeah?”

Tommy keeps petting his hair, whispering comforting nonsense as Nikki works to pull himself back together underneath him. It takes five or ten minutes, maybe more, maybe less, Nikki has no sense of time like this, but eventually he feels each slow, even breath finally reach his lungs, and the shaking lessens until it is almost imperceptible. He doesn’t want to, but he forces himself to open his eyes, though he can’t bring himself to turn his head just yet, instead just starting at Tommy’s hand next to him. 

“I’m okay,” he whispered, swallowing back the shame that threatened to overwhelm him, “I’m okay now.”

“Good, cool, cool, awesome” Tommy rambled a bit, his hand hovering awkwardly above Nikki’s hair. After a moment’s hesitation, he continued stroking his hair, “Are you- I mean, you said you’re okay but are you _okay_? What… what happened? Did I do something?” He asks the last question softly, his voice tinged with horror at the prospect that he could have caused it.

And okay, he sort of _did_ but not the way he thinks, so Nikki sighs and shakes his head, “No, no way dude, you’re fine, I just…” groaning, he brought his hands up to cover his face roughly, “Fuck. I’m so fucking fucked up.”

“Dude?” Tommy’s face scrunched up with worry, “Seriously, you’re kind of freaking me out.”

Nikki let his hands drop, and finally turned to look at Tommy head on, whispering sadly, “I’m going to fuck everything up.”

Motley Crue had barely started and Nikki was about to destroy them. Because he couldn’t run away, and he had no lie to offer, and he had no words to explain. All he could do was reach up, rest his hands on Tommy’s neck, and pull him into a kiss.

Tommy let out a soft noise of surprise, and Nikki has his eyes pressed shut again, and he feels himself start shaking _again_, and he feels like he might start crying.

But before he can completely shatter under the drummer, he feels Tommy sigh. And then he starts kissing back. It’s soft, and gentle, and it’s Nikki’s turn to gasp in surprise. Tommy smiles against his lips, and then he reaches up to cover Nikki’s trembling hands with his own. He pulls them away from his neck so he can hold them properly before breaking the kiss. He doesn’t move away though, resting their foreheads together and smiling warmly at the bassist’s shocked face.

He rubbed his thumbs gently over Nikki’s hands, smirking down at him, “Fuck your hands are cold,” he whispered.

A startled laugh escapes the older boy, blinking rapidly, and before he can think of some sort of response _(how the Hell is he supposed to respond to this? He didn’t know this was even a possibility)_, Tommy leans down to kiss him again.

It’s a little firmer this time, pressing their bodies together and bringing one hand up to card through Nikki’s dark hair, but he can still feel the drummer smiling through the kiss and Nikki can’t help but smile too. He feels a flicker of his daytime confidence, and he wraps his arms around Tommy to try to pull him even closer, soaking in the contact he had been so afraid of- absorbing the touch he’d tried so desperately to run from.

Eventually, Tommy pulled away more fully, but only for a moment, leaning back and tugging at Nikki to sit up with him before pressing their foreheads together again. His grin was so wide and bright, Nikki thought it might blind him, but he didn’t look away. It’d be worth it.

“While I’m loving this development,” Tommy teased, “This floor is like, super gross. And there _is_ a bed, like, right there.”

Nikki laughed, and his chest felt lighter than it had in… he didn’t even know how long. “You make a valid point, T-Bone.” They both stood, Tommy keeping hold of one of Nikki’s hands. 

Before sitting back on the bed, Tommy brushed a hand across his cheek, “Are you… okay? With sharing again, I mean? You don’t have to.”

God, Nikki loved this boy. Shaking his head, the bassist chuckled nervously, ducking his head and blushing slightly in embarrassment, “Nah, it’s fine. I was just losing my shit ‘cause of…” He gestured vaguely.

Tommy understood though, and Nikki barely caught a glance of an affection filled smile before the drummer was tilting his chin up to kiss him again, “Fuck,” Tommy mumbled against his lips “I’ve been wanting to do this for fucking _ever_.” 

Eventually they make it back into bed. Tommy drapes the blankets over them more loosely this time, giving Nikki a little more room to breath. But that doesn’t stop either of them from pressing right up against each other, arms and legs tangled together, laughing softly and exchanging sleepy kisses, keeping each other warm, warm, _warm_.

Nikki shivered. But it was a good shiver.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up on tumblr @motherfucker-oftheyear


End file.
